Losing Grip
by ashlynnb14
Summary: Written as a one-shot but I'm open to changing that. Casey returns to Charming for her sister's funeral and finds that liquor isn't the best way to numb her pain.


"What are you doing here?" I blinked. It was an odd question considering my sister had been murdered. The man folded his arms across his chest, barring me access to the building he was guarding. He stepped in front of me as I tried to bypass him. I smirked and reached for the door again; his hand collided with my shoulder. My reflexes kicked in, despite the bottle of vodka I had drained an hour before. Before he knew what was happening, his cheek was pressed against the pavement. The door I had been trying to go through opened beside me.

"Shit. Get off him, Casey." I scoffed and gave the man one more shove before standing up and taking a step back from him. "Opie didn't tell me you were coming."

"Did I need an invitation to my sister's wake?" It was a rhetorical question. Jax Teller frowned and pulled me into a hug. He smelled like liquor and cigarette smoke. I closed my eyes and leaned into him. After a couple minutes, he stepped back and scanned my face with his steel blue eyes. I looked anywhere but directly at him. "Are you going to invite me inside?"

"You don't need an invitation." He sighed a little as he spoke. I swallowed hard, wishing I had either drank more or less. My stomach was doing somersaults. Jax waited, his hand on the door and his eyes on me. I wasn't ready. I took a step back, shaking my head slowly. "Casey, you didn't come all the way here to leave without saying goodbye."

He was right. I had gotten on the road and travelled almost eight hours as soon as I had gotten the bad news. The whole ride to Charming, I thought about missed holidays, missed birthdays and started regretting living so far away. I swallowed hard and bent over, bracing myself with my hands on my knees. Jax stepped over and gently squeezed my shoulder. He offered me a cigarette but I declined with a shake of my head as I stood up straight.

"Come on, at least come inside." He said, stepping back towards the door. The man that had been standing by the door eyed me cautiously as I followed Jax inside. Almost ten years after I had been inside the clubhouse and the only thing that changed was the pool table felt. I seemed to remember it being the normal, grass green color. At some point, they changed it to red. "Do you want a drink?"

"Yeah." I decided the bottle of vodka wasn't cutting it. Jax nodded and waved a woman over. Moments later, there was a fresh glass of vodka in my hand. I glanced over at him, surprised that he'd remembered. I closed my eyes and poured the glass down my throat in one go, hoping that it wouldn't take too long to kick in. I slowly opened my eyes again and noticed that several familiar faces were looking at me. Gemma was standing behind Clay with her hand on his chest. He was talking to someone but Gemma was staring straight at me. I looked away quickly and noticed Tig Trager watching me curiously. He didn't seem to recognize me, not that I could really blame him.

"Casey." I closed my eyes again. I wasn't ready to see him. If I saw my sister's husband then I would see the truth. So far, it could have all been a misunderstanding. There was a chance that the club was holding a party that was just really depressing for no reason. "I'm sorry."

"Don't." I warned. Opie Winston had always towered over me; even in high school he had seemed larger than life. Standing in front of me with my sister's casket fifty feet away, he seemed so small. I regretted looking at him. His eyes were red and his skin was pale. He looked sick. I felt sick. Without risking a word, I shoved past Jax and Opie in a dash for the bathroom. I almost didn't make it.

"Casey, you okay?" It was Gemma. I had already emptied my stomach and dry heaved for several minutes. I was anything but okay. She jiggled the door knob. I forced myself to my feet and opened the door. "Here."

"Thanks." I took the gum and chewed on it for a few seconds before stepping into the hallway. Gemma grabbed my wrist as I stepped towards the bar. I jerked it away reflexively. "What?"

"Your piece is showing." She pursed her lips and I readjusted my shirt. The club was far from a gun free zone but it seemed like Gemma didn't appreciate me carrying a firearm inside. "Worried about trouble? At a wake?"

"Stranger things have happened with you around." I left her standing in the hallway and started looking for Opie. I found him standing by the bar with Jax in almost the same place that I'd left them. I made a point to look away from the open, double doors across from the bar. I had caught a glimpse of the casket when Opie first came up to me. He looked over at me. "Sorry."

"Don't be." He muttered. I nodded, longing for the numbness the vodka had given me on my way to the clubhouse from my hotel. "Need some more vodka?"

"Yeah but I wouldn't keep it down." I admitted. He nodded slowly and I noticed he was looking over my head. My back was to the casket. "I don't really know what I'm supposed to say."

"Nothing?" Opie looked me in the eyes and shrugged. "Everyone has been saying how great she was and how I can tell them if I need anything. I know she was great and all I need is her."

"Yeah." I knew the feeling. "I'm not really ready for reminiscing or any of that shit." I didn't finish the thought out loud but all I could think about was finding the person that had killed her and taking away everything they ever cared about. My fists clinched as I thought about the person that had killed my sister. Were they celebrating? Did it even matter to them? I backed away from Opie and walked outside. I started pacing back and forth along the side of the boxing ring. My grief was starting to slip into rage.

"Here." I stepped back from the punching bag and took the bandanna from the stranger. Both of my hands were bleeding from the knuckles. I turned my right hand over. I knew it hurt, it probably hurt like a bitch, but I couldn't feel it. The man passed me a second bandanna and I looked up at him. "I don't need them back."

"Okay." I wrapped a bandanna around each of my hands and took a deep breath. I turned to thank him but the blood on the bag caught my attention. I turned my head a little, wondering how I hadn't felt anything. When I got my mind back on track and turned towards the man, he was gone. "Thanks."

Jax walked beside me as I slowly made my way towards the casket. I still wasn't ready but in reality, I never would be. My lip trembled as I looked down at my older sister. She didn't look like she was resting or sleeping like I remembered corpses looking when I was younger. Then again, I had never seen a dead person younger than sixty. Jax put his arm around my shoulders as I carefully reached out to touch her cheek. I tried to ignore the obvious makeup that the mortician had used to cover up the bruising and damage from the bullet wounds. They had done a good job, but makeup could only go so far.

"The graveside service is tomorrow at noon." Gemma said. The casket had been loaded into the hearse and everyone had migrated inside. I nodded, barely registering what she had said. "Opie may need help getting the kids ready."

"What?" I blinked and slowly turned my head to look at her. My brain was lagging to process what I had heard. The kids, I thought. Ellie and Kenny. They had to grow up without a mother. Why? Because some turf war or something? How could I help them? I had only seen my niece and nephew a hand full of times. Again, regret washed over me. Gemma waved her hand in front of my eyes. She looked like she was waiting for an answer. I didn't even know she'd said anything else. I shook my head. "I need to get back to the hotel."

"Absolutely not." Jax said, stepping away from Tara. I wasn't sure when she had gotten there. Was she there the whole time? I thought she had moved to Kansas or somewhere. "You can't ride anywhere."

I pulled my keys out of my jacket pocket and stared down at them. The small key ring and four keys felt like a brick. I handed them to him with a nod, "No, I guess not."

Gemma led me to one of the bedrooms in the back of the clubhouse. I had seen them a few times but I had never actually been inside one. It reminded me of a dorm room; there was a bed, dresser and night stand. The walls were wood paneled with posters of motorcycles and bikini clad women. It was far from the worst place I had ever crashed. I turned around to see Gemma walking back into the room with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin.

"You're going to need that in the morning." She set them on the night stand and turned to me with a frown. I dropped my eyes to the floor. "Try to get some rest."

"Thanks." I muttered as she pulled the door closed behind her. I pulled my boots off and crawled into the bed, skipping my jeans and shirt. Tears streamed down my face until I fell asleep some time late into the night.

"Fuck." I groaned, sitting up. I held my head in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut. Unlike most of my drunken nights, I clearly remembered everything about the night before. I assumed I would be thankful for that eventually but in the moment, I wished I had just blacked out. The water Gemma had brought me helped me choke down four aspirin but the pills were going to take too long to kick in. The clock on the dresser read a quarter after ten. I groaned again, forcing myself out of the bed so I could get my backpack off my motorcycle. "Oh."

The bag was sitting just inside the door with my keys laying on top of it. I hoped to remember to thank Jax later. A shower will help me wake up, I told myself. I pulled my bag onto the bed and dug out a clean set of panties and bra. The shower had manly smelling body wash and cheap shampoo but I wasn't in the position to be picky. I unwrapped my knuckles and hissed at the damage I had done to them. I remembered not feeling the pain the night before but I was paying for that. The water stung as it washed the blood down the drain.

"Morning." Jax said, sliding a cup of coffee to me. I stepped behind the bar and took a bottle of whiskey from the shelf. He watched as a poured a generous amount into the mug. "Alright."

"Thanks for bringing my bag in." There, I hadn't forgotten. He nodded and poured some of the whiskey into his own mug. "I saw Tara last night."

"Yeah." He didn't elaborate. I twisted my mouth, disappointed that he hadn't taken the bait to start a conversation about anything other than my dead sister. I finished my coffee and put the mug in the sink before he spoke again, "Do you want to ride in the limo with the kids?"

"I don't-but I guess I should. Ope is riding?" Jax nodded. I wasn't sure who else would ride in the limo with the kids and I definitely didn't want them to be alone. I took a deep breath and looked down at my dress. "I feel like an idiot."

"You look good." He shrugged and I felt the air starting to get thick with history and angst. I left him sitting at the bar and walked outside. The man I had put on the ground was sitting on top of a picnic table smoking a cigarette. I considered apologizing but reconsidered, I wasn't sorry.

"I didn't know who you were." He said as I walked by, lighting my own cigarette. I nodded. He was just doing what he was told. I didn't need an apology. "I'm Kip but everybody calls me half-sack."

"You admit that?" I asked, raising a single eyebrow. He nodded with a laugh. "I'm Casey, no stupid nick name."

"Funny." He smiled but it seemed timid. I couldn't blame him. He probably thought I was quick to anger and didn't seem to want his face on the ground again. He motioned towards my motorcycle. "Nice bike."

"Thanks." I knew he was just trying to change the subject but I didn't feel like talking. I chain smoked a few cigarettes as the lot started to fill up with motorcycles and cars. It must have been getting close to time. I flicked half of a cigarette into a butt pail when I saw Donna's car pull onto the lot. I swallowed hard.

"Hey, Aunt Casey." Ellie whispered, hugging me loosely. I smoothed her hair and gave her arm a little squeeze. Kenny stepped over to us but didn't move to hug me or say hello. I didn't mind. I barely talked for a week after my parents had died. Opie rolled onto the lot a few seconds later, breaking the silence between the kids and I. He walked over and kissed the top of each kid's head before giving me a quick hug.

"I'm going to ride with them." I said. Opie thanked me and then walked into the clubhouse with low shoulders. I took a deep breath, wishing for the day to be over already. Piney walked past, following his son, and the kids followed him inside. I looked down at my knuckles and grimaced. They were split open and swollen, but at least they weren't bleeding.

"Hey trouble." I recognized Clay's voice without looking up. "I'm sorry you've got to be here for this. Donna was like a daughter to me."

"Yeah." I still didn't want to talk about her. "Don't worry, I'm not sticking around long."

"I'm not worried." I assumed he was lying. While Opie and Jax were trouble makers through school, I was always doing my best to be worse. They had a habit of skipping class and vandalizing property where I had a habit of getting in fights with anyone, anywhere, any time. "Still in the service?"

"For the next month." I shrugged. I had enlisted in the Marines when a judge gave me a choice between the military or jail, that was eight years ago. Clay nodded but before he could say anything else, the limo and hearse pulled in. I wished I had skipped the coffee and gone with straight whiskey.

Ellie was sniffling as she and Kenny held hands in the back of the limousine. I chewed on my thumb nail and stared at the car's dark carpet. What could I say to two little kids that had just lost their mother? Everything was going to be okay? Well, it wasn't. They would miss her for the rest of their lives. I refused to lie to them. Kenny wiped the back of his hand across his face and I caught his bottom lip start to tremble.

"I miss her to." I wasn't sure if it would help them but at least it was something. They weren't alone. When my parents had died, knowing Donna missed them also kept me from feeling so alone all the time. Ellie started crying and crawled over to me. I wrapped an arm around her and held her close. Kenny joined us seconds later. When the limousine stopped, the kids were on either side of me, just holding on. I didn't bother rushing out into the cemetery, it could wait.

The graveside was crowded as I led my niece and nephew to the front row to sit with their father. I diverted my eyes from the casket and the mechanism that they would use to lower it into the ground. Ellie switched spots with Kenny as we were walking, so she was sitting next to me and her brother next to Opie.

As the preacher spoke about how loving and caring Donna was as a mother, sister, wife and friend. I started wondering about the whys. Why, if there was a God, would they let two innocent children grow up without their mother? Why would my brother in-law lose his high school sweetheart before they had a chance to grow old together? Why would someone murder her?

"Casey?" I looked over at Opie, surprised that he'd spoken. Several people were staring at me, including the preacher. I took a deep breath and tried to gather my thoughts. "Do you want to say anything?"

"No." I said after a long pause. I couldn't trust myself to stand up in front of everyone and keep it together. There was no doubt I would either break down in tears or fly off the handle in a fit of rage. The preacher nodded and opened the offer to anyone else. Not surprisingly, no one spoke up. Opie stood up and dropped a rose onto the casket, followed by Kenny and then Ellie. I noticed my hand shaking as I lowered my flower down onto the slick, silver paint. My bottom lip trembled. I bit down on it hard, refusing to cry.

The clubhouse was solemn after the graveside service. The hang-arounds and crow-eaters had been sent home, so it was just the club members, old ladies and family. I found myself gravitating towards the bar despite Ellie sticking right by my side. She was quiet but never more than a step behind me. Kenny was sitting across the room with Piney and Opie.

"Do you want a soda or something?" I asked Ellie as a prospect brought me the bottle of vodka I asked for. She shook her head, picking at the skin around her nails. I sighed and leaned over the bar, grabbing a glass from below. If she was going to sit beside me, I was at least going to use a glass. Gemma walked up after I refilled my glass, Ellie was still sitting silently on the stool beside me. She raised a brow at the bottle beside me.

"Ellie, I think your grandma is getting ready to take you and Kenny home." Gemma's voice was softer than I had ever heard it before. Ellie didn't argue but she did look back at me after sliding off the stool. I offered her a smile but it felt weak. Gemma waited until Ellie was out of earshot to question me about the vodka.

"Would you rather I go to another bar or sit in my motel room and drink by myself? I can do either." I screwed the cap onto the bottle and looked up at her. She frowned.

"No, you don't need to leave." Jax said, glaring at his mother. Gemma and Jax argued over whether or not she was telling me to leave. I took the opportunity to leave the bar, vodka bottle in tow. It was a warm, clear night and the parking lot was less crowded anyways. I ignored the fact that I was in a dress and slid into the boxing ring. I let my legs dangle over the side and rested my forearms on the second rope. Donna used to hate watching the guys box each other. She hated the violent side of the club but that never stopped her from loving Opie. I remembered the first time Opie had come home with someone else's blood on his clothes. Donna had called me, crying and asking me what she should do. Of course, she didn't really need or want my opinion. She just needed someone to listen. By the end of the call, she was telling me how she only cared that he was safe. Opie started cleaning himself up at the clubhouse after that.

"Want a cigarette?" I looked up at the unfamiliar voice. It was the same man that had given me bandanas to wrap my bloodied knuckles with. I took a cigarette from the pack he tilted towards me. He passed me a heavy, metal zippo lighter. It was an old school, flip top lighter that closed with a metal snap. It was entertaining. I flipped it opened and closed a few times before handing it back to him.

"Sorry." I realized how silly that must have looked. Here was some girl wearing a black, lace dress with scabby knuckles and a half empty bottle of vodka playing with a stranger's lighter like a little kid. He shrugged silently and dropped the lighter into an inner pocket of his leather kutte. I tried to read the patches without looking too obvious. He turned and leaned his back against the metal post before I could get my eyes to focus. "I can pay you for the bandanas."

"Nah, I've got plenty." He ran his hand underneath the hood of his sweatshirt and scratched his head. I nodded and took another drink from the bottle that seemed to be getting lighter quicker than I thought it should. I pulled the bottle away and looked at it.

"Do you want some? I left the glass inside." I offered with a shrug. The man smirked and took the bottle. He didn't drink from it right away. Instead, he watched me from the anonymity of his hooded sweater. I tried blowing smoke rings to distract myself and perhaps get his attention elsewhere. After a few failed rings, he took a generous drink and passed the bottle back to me. Without a word, he walked into the clubhouse, flicking his cigarette butt into the pail by the door.

"I guess your staying here again tonight." Jax said with a laugh. I blinked and sat up. I must have fallen asleep at some point after finishing the vodka off. It was still dark out but it was starting to get cooler. "Did you pay for that hotel room tonight?"

"Nah." I had only paid for one night, telling myself I would get back on the road home right after the funeral. I handed the empty bottle to Jax and started making my way out of the ring. He watched, looking amused. "Turn around, creep."

"Really? I've already seen everything, darlin." Jax laughed as I stumbled, catching myself on the picnic table. I stood up and pointed at him.

"I was seventeen. It doesn't count." I fussed. He smiled mischievously and it reminded me of all the times he, Opie, Donna, Tara and I would hang out growing up. I pulled the bottom of my dress down and showed him my middle finger.

"Come on, I'll make sure you get in bed." I narrowed my eyes until he added, "alone."

Opie leaned against the kitchen counter as I finished my second glass of water. He had asked me to come over to talk, but my head was killing me from the night before. I was surprised that the kids weren't there, but he explained that his mother was watching them for a few days. I felt a little better about being hungover since the kids weren't there.

"What's up?" I said, filling the glass of water again. Opie looked hollow and had obviously been awake for too long.

"When are you going home?" He asked. Unlike Clay, he seemed like he was dreading it instead of looking forward to it. I took a long drink and sat the glass down.

"You'll get through it, Ope. You don't really have a choice." I knew he had to be wondering how he was going to raise two kids on his own. I wasn't the answer though. Despite caring about Ellie and Kenny, I wasn't good with kids. "I have to leave by tomorrow night."

"I don't even know what to say to them. Every time I look at Ellie she looks more like Donna." Opie ran his hand over his face and down his beard. I frowned. Ellie did favor Donna, he was definitely right about that. "Can you come back for a while after you separate? I can pay you to watch them."

"I wouldn't take your money, Opie. You're the only family I have left." I finished the water and studied his face. He barely looked like the Opie I knew. "I'll think about it, okay?"

"Thanks." Opie stuffed his hands in his front pockets. "Don't leave without telling them goodbye, okay?"

"Of course." I gave him a quick hug, somehow thinking that would help things. Stepping away, Opie caught my arm. I noticed him looking at my knuckles. "It was just the punching bag, I promise."

"You're still the same old Casey, huh?" I pulled my arm away and shrugged, unsure if he was trying to insult me or not. Opie followed me out to the driveway, pausing to lock the door on his way out. "Are you headed back to the clubhouse?"

"Yeah, I'm less likely to get in trouble there." I explained. He mounted his Harley and paused before starting it up.

"If anyone asks, I'm riding around for a while." Opie didn't give me time to ask questions. He started his motorcycle and it drowned out any thing I could have said to him. I watched him tear down the road before I started my own motorcycle and left for the clubhouse. I paused at the end of the driveway and looked at the house that Donna had loved so much. It was modest and smaller than she liked but it was where she'd raised the kids and she had left a lot of her personality in the decorating. I bit my lip and wondered, if I had stayed in Charming, if I would have had a house right down the street and dinner every week with my sister and her family.

"Woah, what's wrong?" Jax asked as I barged into the clubhouse. I surveyed the room quickly, Tara was standing beside Jax, looking at me with wide eyes. I stopped and turned back towards the door, telling myself it was a terrible idea in the first place. I ran right into a very tall, very solid man as I hurried to get out of the clubhouse.

"Ow." I groaned. The man took his sunglasses off and I realized it was the same guy that had given me the bandanas and the cigarette. His eyes were dark and for the first time, I noticed that he had tattoos covering both of his arms. Normally, it would be one of the first things I noticed about a man. I closed my eyes and shook my head, brushing past him.

I ignored the motorcycle that pulled in behind me at the liquor store. He had followed me since I left the clubhouse, never making an effort to pull up beside me or fall far enough back to hide his intention. He was still sitting on his bike when I exited the store with a bottle of whiskey. Jax had probably told him to make sure I made it to wherever I was going in one piece. I put the bottle in my saddle bag and left towards the hotel. He followed me, staying about a car length away.

"Are you coming in or…" I called over to him. He had pulled his motorcycle alongside mine when I walked into the office to get a room for the night. After a moment, he took his helmet off and followed me to my room. He closed the door behind us as I tossed my bag onto the bed and opened the bottle of whiskey. "Do you need a cup?"

"No." He took the bottle and swallowed down two large drinks. I did the same after he passed it back. "Why'd you leave?"

"It's a long story." I set the bottle on the dresser and sat down on the bed, pulling my boots off and tossing them towards the bathroom. He seemed to be looking for more of an explanation. "I went there looking to take my mind off of things but I realized that wasn't going to happen. It was a terrible idea in the first place."

"So whiskey and a cheap hotel room is better?" The corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile. I rolled my eyes. "What was the terrible idea?"

"Fucking someone I shouldn't have." I wasn't sure why I told him that. It was true but it wasn't exactly something I meant to say out loud. He didn't say anything. I stood up and grabbed the bottle again, pouring it down my throat as he took a step closer. When I offered him another drink, he took the bottle and sat it down. "Do you have somewhere to be?"

"Not until tomorrow morning." His voice was raspy but I kind of liked it. I reached past him and picked up the bottle, bringing it to my lips one more time. He watched me closely as I licked the alcohol off my lips. "Just looking for a distraction?"

"Are you offering?" I smirked. He was my type; tall, dark and dangerous. He didn't answer me but shrugged his kutte off and laid it on a chair. I felt myself start to smile. "Do me a favor."

"What?" He asked, grabbing me by the hips and jerking me to him. "Don't tell me your name."

"Okay." He didn't ask why or even hesitate. I appreciated it and for that, I let him shove me back onto the bed. It was obvious he liked to be in control, most guys like him did. As his lips took possession of mine, I found myself forgetting everything else. I knew all the bad shit would be there afterwords, but I was able to just be in the moment. He was rough and didn't treat me like some fragile thing that would break under the slightest pressure. It was a nice change of pace, to be the more submissive one. I drug my nails down his back and he brought a hand to my throat. My breathing quickened and he squeezed the hand around my throat a little tighter.

"Fuck." It was half groan and half laughter. He started getting dressed but paused to pass me the bottle of whiskey. I smiled and took a quick sip. "You don't have to leave yet."

"Why? You want to cuddle?" He smirked when I didn't even try to hold back my laughter. "I'm hungry."

"Okay. You can come back later if you want. I'll probably be drunk and suggestible." I blinked when he threw my shirt and pants at me. "Is this you asking me to eat with you?"

"Have you eaten?" I twisted my mouth. This wasn't a good idea. People usually talked while they ate together. "It's food, not a marriage proposal."

"Okay." I said against my better judgment. He lit a cigarette as I got redressed. "Two things."

"What?" He sighed.

"I'm not riding with you and I still don't want to know your name. It just complicates shit." I decided to offer at least a half ass explanation since we were going to eat together. He shook his head but didn't object further. I followed him to the diner and walked inside as he took a phone call outside. I got a corner booth and sat facing the door out of habit. It took him a couple minute to finish his call, but he eventually joined me.

"That was Jax." He stated. I nodded, wondering why he'd decided to share that information. We both ordered and waited for our food without much conversation. I took the opportunity to look over his tattoos and I noticed he had a serpent inked on his head. I wondered if he'd gotten it when he was young and dumb or if it had some kind of deeper meaning. He entertained me staring at him for a few minutes, but eventually raised his brow with a short, "What?"

"Just looking at your ink." I shrugged. He nodded and leaned back in the booth. "You don't have as many club tattoos as most of the Redwood guys."

"I wasn't born into the club. Most of the skin real estate was full by the time I joined up with Tacoma." I nodded. He had a point. Jax and Opie were all but born wearing the club colors, so most of their tattoos were club related. It made sense that someone who wasn't born and bred Sons of Anarchy would have more unrelated ink. "You're thinking pretty hard about that."

"I'm drunk. Leave me alone." The waitress sat our plates down and saved me from making any other excuses. I definitely wasn't sober but I wasn't exactly drunk. As we ate, I started wondering what his name actually was. He didn't really strike me as a Bob or John. I shook my head, there was a reason I didn't want to know. The less I knew, the easier it was to keep things short lived and fun. Leaving was going to make it even easier. After we ate, we stood in the parking lot smoking by the motorcycles. I looked over at him as he sat down. "So, are you coming back or is this where we go our separate ways?"

"Shit came up. Heading back to Tacoma tonight instead of tomorrow." I nodded, ignoring the small part of me that was disappointed. He put his sunglasses on and started his bike. I raised a hand to say goodbye before turning my back to him and sitting on my own motorcycle. There was no rush to finish my cigarette and be anywhere in particular, so I savored the last few drags before heading back to the empty hotel room and bottle of whiskey.


End file.
